A FUNERAL SERMON, Preached at the burial of the Lady jane Maitlane, daughter to the Right Noble Earl, john Earl of Lauderdail, at Hadington, the 19 of December. 1631.  
BY M. I. M.  
Together with divers Epitaphs, as well Latin, as English, written by sundry Authors.   royal blazon as printer's device 
IN MY DEFENCE GOD ME DEFEND  
EDINBURGH, Printed by the Printers to the KING'S most excellent Majesty. 1633.   

A FUNERAL SERMON PREACHED AT THE BURIAL of the Lady jane MAITLANE.  JOB. 14.14. 
All the days of my appointed time will I wait, till my change come.  
IT is said, that it is better to be in the house of mourning, than mirth; if ever, I trust now, you are in a house of mourning, and mourners; mourners, not so much with their doole, and mourning ; as with mourning hearts and weeping eyes. I pray God this mourning caused by this more than mournful object, may draw us to a mourning for ourselves, and for our sins. And that this change may lead us to the practice of job his resolution here, All the days of my appointed time will I wait till my change come: I make it the ground of my speech; since of a mourner I must be a speaker. Loath was I to it; But how should I, how could I detract it? this being the least duty I can; the last I ever shall perform to the never-to-be-forgotten memory of this Honourable young Lady; Repressing therefore and smothering my own grief for a time; I will proceed having first called upon God, who only can direct me, how to speak, you how to hear, and both to his glory.  
THis change, to her als joyful, as to us sorrowful, calls upon us with job, all the days of our appointed time to wait till our change come. Few words, yet large matter; which at this time, is rather a trouble, than an ease to the speaker: of whom you cannot expect Scholastic speculations, flowers of Fathers, broken sentences of Poets; such elaborate and painted discourses as they, are more for show than profit, so to this time altogether unsuitable. It shall suffice me, if tempering my speech with brevity & perspicuity, I can enforce upon you, the practice of what job resolved, All the days of your appointed time to wait till your change come. And thus I enter upon my text by way of, 1. explication. 2. application. 3. exhortation. For explication, as I will not detain you with the dependence and deduction of the text; so I will not be curious in cutting and dividing the words: only, in general, I take them as running on three points, 1. Life, 2. Death, 3. Preparation in life for death. Of life you have two things; one expressed; That the time thereof is appointed; the other implied; That it is short, rather to be measured by days than years. Death and the preparation thereto, are set down in two words of large extent; death is a change, and our preparation a waiting for this change.  
☞ Our time is appointed, not by ourselves, not by man, not by any other creature; but by the creator of all. His we are in our coming, staying, leaving this world: from him is our time here, and change hence: what ever beside, within us, without us, gets the name of prolonging our time, or hasting our change, it is subordinate to his appointment.  
2. Our time is appointed: Some have years; some months; some days; some hours; all appointed, and measured forth by God. One comes to his change by a burning fever; another by a lingering consumption; one meets it in his bed, another in the street; thousands at once in the field, and all by appointment. If the sparrows falling or flying, one hair of thy head it's growing or falling be appointed; how not our time and change by appointment?  
3. Our time is appointed by him who knows what is best for him, what for us; our time is from him, and should be for him: As our coming is not by chance, so neither our going. We are all set here for some business, which being done; then our appointed time leads to our change. Thus for the appointment of our time.  
All the days of my appointed time: Here the next, the brevity of this time; a point so clear by the light of Scripture, reason, and daily experience; that it might seem a vain expense of our appointed time to insist upon it. And surely if men's inward conceits, and outward practices did comply with their verbal profession, I should wrong both you and myself, to make a pause here. But alas, what ever be the confession of the days of our appointed time, yet I am sure our carriage speaks, that we dream not of days but of years, yea many years of our appointed time. Whence I entreat you is the casting away of so much of our appointed time, in doing nothing, in doing evil? whence the tiring of our wits to find out new ways to the spending thereof? whence the too-long spun-web of our ambitious, avaricious thoughts? whence those many delays, whereby we shift knowledge, repentance, faith? All grace and goodness, and this waiting for our approaching change? whence all those? but from our conceit not of days, but of years, not of short, but long life? Yet the truth is, howsoever we may deceive and are deceived, jobs words must stand (All the days of my appointed time) spoken by a man of truth, and inspired by the spirit of truth.  
Scripture is so copious in this argument, that hardly can you turn over many pages, but you will meet with one or other passage or word sounding this way. Neither only will you find positive speeches, but great variety of resemblances, whereby God's Spirit would set forth these days, or shortness of our appointed time. Hence these comparisons, of a flower, a shadow, a vapour appearing for a while, and then vanishing, a dream, an eagle's flight in the air, a cloud blown away with the wind, or else dissolved; a span measured in an instant, with many such like: David calls it vanity, which is nothing; yea not only his time and days, but himself, because of them; Every man in his best estate is altogether vanity, Psal. 39.5. where each word is emphaticke, man, every man, every man in his best estate, is vanity, is altogether vanity: And Psal. 62.9. The children of men are vanity, the chief men are lies; to lay them upon a balance they are altogether lighter than vanity: And how I pray you can we count that long, which is in continual consumption; the more time we have, the nearer we are to our change; yea our change gins in a manner with our time; no sooner living than beginning to die: Yesterday is not to be recalled, what is passed is perished; the shadow of our time is still in motion; this glass still running; this ship still sailing; while we are eating, drinking, sleeping, walking, talking, we are still carried to this change; and to close this point; there is nothing makes our time seem long, but the expectation of hope of long time; and the longest time, once passed, is but a dream, but vanity.  
Thus of life, as appointed by God; as measured by days; The other two points of our change, and waiting for this change, is matter for many sermons, and a task for our whole life; But within this short scantling of time, wherewith I am straitened, I shall absolve them in two words. The change we must wait for, is that which is begun by death, and is accomplished at our resurrection; O how joyful, how glorious a change to the godly; whose corruption puts on incorruption, whose mortality puts on immortality; who are changed and transchanged into the glory of God. This happy change we must wait for; First, by practice, living so as we may attain to it. Secondly, by meditation, thinking on it ere it come. Thirdly, by resolution embracing it when it comes; I hasten to the application.  
Works move more than words, teaching by example is more effectual than by discourse. If the ardent, and affectionate desires of her Honourable parents, the hearty wishes of her many worthy friends; the many salt tears, sobs, sighs, groans, of all her acquaintance, the prayers and supplications of us all; if gifts of body and mind surpassing ordinary, and stirring almost admiration in the beholders; if all those could have delayed this change, neither should your eyes have seen, nor my tongue this day spoken of it; but it was appointed by God, blessed be his name; his will, not ours, be done.  
Maximilian, the first of that name, commanded that his dead body should be exposed to public view; adding this reason, ut vel meo discant exemplo. Behold we have this day proposed our Maxima, the choicest jewel we had, once the delight of our eyes, and the joy of our hearts; her we proposed a spectacle, not to be gazed upon, but that in this change ye might read a lecture of your own coming change; It is I know expected I should speak somewhat of her; and why should I frustrate your expectation? for though these speeches should not be Panegyrics, only for the praises of the dead; but rather instructions for the living; yet I see not why their due commendations, because of their excellent virtues, should be suppressed; since God, in them, by them, is glorified, others edified. And hath not the holy Spirit told us, that, As the memory of the wicked shall rot, so the memory of the just shall be blessed. Prov. 10.7. The righteous shall be had in everlasting remembrance, Psal. 112.6. If with God, why not with man?  
Having upon those grounds resolved to speak of her, yet so, as the truth of my love, should not prejudge my love of truth; still for a time I remained irresolved what to speak, where to begin, when to end; inopem me copia fecit. In end I found that, as to speak nothing were intolerable, so to speak all were impossible: So that my course must be of many things to make choice of some few; and that by confining my speech to my text, 1. of her days; 2. of her appointed time; 3. her change; 4. her waiting for her change. All the days of her appointed time did she wait till her change came.  
All the days. Sometimes days are taken for years, and years for days; when I speak of her time, I doubt whether to say days, or years: Let me join them both; all the days, all the years: Her appointed time was days, her appointed time was years; it was short, it was long. Will we take time and days as they are ordinarily; alas than I must say she had days, and but few days that was worthy of years, of many years; thousands who abuse their time to the dishonour of God, themselves, the world, have many days; while she, who knew both what time was, and how to use time, had but few. Ah what pity to behold such a blossom blasted in the spring? such a flower withered in the morning? such a bright and glancing star overclouded with a gloomy and tempestuous night. But if we shall call those only days that are spent honourably, virtuously, religiously, than I may boldly turn days into years, and say, all the years of her appointed time. Her time was not short, but long. Diu vixit, licet non diu fuit, She lived long in a short time; is one day of a man's life governed with knowledge and reason, to be prized above the many years of the unreasonable creature? why not her few days full of knowledge and grace to be valued beyond the longest time of too too many, who at four times twenty come to their change empty of both? if her few days breed sorrow, let her many years bring us comfort.  
Her time was Appointed by God; here a ground of patience. Since this change, the affections and passions of many have shown themselves, and still doth; The eyes of all who knew her, the tongues of all who heard of her do abundantly testify, not a private but a public sorrow: and shall we condemn that, which God and Nature commands? Christ and his Saints practised it. We find the patriarchs and holy men mourning over their dead: our blessed Saviour shedding tears over Lazarus; and shall it then be strange if we behold her worthy parents lifting up their voices with cries, being deprived of such a divided piece of themselves? Her honourable friends to bedew their cheeks, being rob of such a choice flower of their garland? all her acquaintance, familiars, and followers, to fill heaven and earth with their lamentations? wanting her, whose enjoying was a great part of their earthly joy? yea, and it is strange to see all those bounds where she was known by eye or ear, to mourn; each family, as if they were mourning for their own first born, being frustrate of those great hopes, and common benefits, her few days did promise to all? Surely it is not strange, nor can be blamed. And to increase it by patheticke speeches, I neither can, being already at such a height; neither will, lest we give too large reines to it. Not to mourn, is not only graceless, but unnatural; to be immoderate in our mourning is not Christian, but Heathenish. When jacob came to his change, joseph mourned; so did the egyptians; he but 7. days, they 70. Gen. 50.3.10. He knew his time was appointed by God, they looked to fate, and necessity: he knew his death was but a change, they took it for a final dissolution and destruction. Mourn than we may, we should, but to exceed in our mourning as those who have no hope, we may not, we should not. And here among many, one ground for the moderation of our sorrow, and persuading of patience, Her time was appointed of God: if it had been possible that another should have wrought this change; would we, think ye, have taken it patiently? no, rather would we have parted with our own eyes. But now, O Lord, thou hast done it, and therefore with thy servant David we must close our mouth, yea reverence, obey, glorify thy appointment, just are all thy ordinances, upright are all thy ways: Though before with David we did weep, and would not be comforted, yet now seeing the evidence of thy appointment, we must rise up and praise thee.  
Ye see her appointed time: I come now to her waiting. job saith, he would wait for his change, and why may not I say, All her days she did wait till her change came. For if the waiting for our change be; first, the leading of such a life as doth show, we know there will be a change; secondly, if it be in the confluence of worldly blessings, to mind more our change than them; thirdly, if it be, at the approaching thereof, to desire it, embrace it, welcome it, joy in it, than I may truly say, she did wait for her change. God is my witness, what I speak, it is not from partial affection, so it is not for particular ends. I follow not doubtful rumours, uncertain and flying reports; but what I know to be truth from her birth to this her change, from her cradle to her grave; I speak and that for truth's sake; setting her waiting for a pattern to our waiting.  
First then, I say, her life was such as did testify she knew there would be a change. Religion, piety, devotion is that, which gives, as it were, another life to all moral virtues, and makes them Christian, without it they may be profitable to others, but little to ourselves. It is true, only God knows the heart in itself, and by himself: but if pregnant presumptions, and well nigh infallible signs may be a firm ground for passing censure; I may confidently affirm and assevere, that the fear of God was placed, yea deeply rooted in her heart: and from this fountain did flow those streams of the exercise of religion; Her hunger, and burning desire to hear God's word, her attention in hearing, her knowledge by hearing, her sweet devout communication and practice after hearing; What? shall I name to you her frequent praying; daily reading; her writing almost the whole New Testament with her own hand: and was all only in hypocrisy, and for show? No, I am assured her religion was not so much in her ears and tongue (as it is with many) as in her heart and life. Who knew her, knows she was more in substance than in show. From this same fountain flowed also that rare, and scarce to be matched obedience, love, honour, and all due respect to her parents; which as her whole life did witness, so her change: nothing more grieving her for her change, as that her change would bring grief to them. If I should enlarge her observance to her superiors in regard of age and state of life, her dutiful respect to her equals, her modest & moderate carriage to her inferiors; her love to all, and love of all; I might easily weary myself in relating, and you in hearing. The mouths of many will speak what now I may not, only two words: It is rare to find so few years so full of nature, so full of grace: And next whereas such eminent parts and virtues, especially in young years, are usually accompanied, yea and darkened with more than conspicuous faults: I know many will bear witness with me, that not only she was free of such as might any ways obscure her more noble parts; but even of such as might bring upon her the least stain before man, being blameless (far be it from me to say before God) I am sure before the world. Now judge ye if such a life was not a waiting for her change?  
For the second, The confluence of worldly blessings; I confess my ignorance in Heraldry, to describe her pedigree and descent, derived by many generations from her well deserving ancestors. Only this I can say (and let me say it to provoke their posterity to imitation and emulation) they were truly honourable, since both blood and virtue joined to make them noble: noble not only by inheritance, but by purchase: Their greatness from their blood, their goodness was from their virtue. Such her birth. But what avails names, titles, arms, honours, if there be no more? her birth did not so much honour her, as she it; having in a beautiful body a more beautiful soul; such knowledge, wisdom, skill in all things befitting her sex, and far above her age● that scarce her equal, let be her superior could be found. Why should I speak to you of her many noble friends, her means and worldly estate, and hopes, and such like. And those also are Gods blessings, not to be neglected, and by many too much respected: Now what could have been expected, but that this concurrence of earthly blessings of all sorts, within, without, of birth, body, soul, estate, friends, would have tied her heart to the world, and raised her thoughts to an applauding of herself, and contemning of others? But ah! who ever did see pride shine in those eyes? when did ever neglect and contempt show itself, in that meek, loving, and louly countenance? I have often wondered to behold such excellent parts followed with such admirable humility, humanity, modesty, courtesy: and that not only towards the great (which may, and oftentimes dwells with pride) but even to those of the lower sort. Now what did all this show? but that her heart was not in this world; that those wormeaten and fading pleasures did not bewitch her; that she did think on her change; and that trampling under foot all the pomp and glory of this world, she did aspire to that glory, the eye never saw, the ear never heard?  
Thirdly, when her weakness did threaten her change; with what spiritual courage did she welcome it? Thousands dare not so much as once think on their change: The Atheist, the Epicure, the worldling are confounded with the apprehension thereof: Only the child of God dareth encounter it. Her strength was from God, whom she did ply, and importune with ardent prayers to strengthen and confirm her in her last conflict. Her inward friends, a good conscience, and faith in Christ did sustain her; and made that as she was not ashamed to live, so not afraid to die.  
The last word of my text, and of her, is her change; O bitter-sweet change! bitter to us, sweet to her. To us bitter, who shall see no more that face, nor hear that voice, we never saw nor heard, but with pleasure, and joy! bitter to us, who by this change have our joy changed into sorrow, our laughter into mourning! but o sweet, o joyful change to her! who hereby hath changed earth for heaven, the place of her exile for her father's house; where there be many mansions: the company of mortal men, with the happy fellowship of the immortal God, of Christ her Saviour, of the glorious Angels, and blessed spirits of the just! Her change like the furnace of fire to the three children, at the worst hath but loosed her bands; like Ionah's whale carried her through the storms of this tempestuous world to the port of her eternal rest; like the red Sea hath opened her a passage from this Egypt to that heavenly Caanan. Her then we neither do, nor can bewail, whose change hath changed her to joy without change: but we may, we do bewail ourselves; we bewail our own lose; the doleful memory whereof some of us I hope will ever carry about, aye until our own change come.  
I have done with my application, wherein if any shall think I have spoken too much, yet I will think too little; and I hope there is none, to whom she was known, but knows that I have keeped within bounds, and will blame perhaps my defect rather than excess.  
I come to the last thing I purposed: The exhortation. Right honourable, right worthy, and dear beloved; you have heard of job his change; and now see this: Let me tell you that ere long, there is not any of us, who are here, but he shall come to his own change. Here indeed we have distinctions of states, callings, persons, and that justly; but Pallida mors, this change doth equal all; you know the comparison of the chesse-men, while the play lasteth, there is distinction of them; being esteemed as they may best serve our purpose; but the play ended, and chekmete given, all promiscuously are hurled in the box; and often the least lies above the greatest: So here, though men be more or less regarded in respect of the foresaid differences; yet when this change comes, whereby the play of this life is ended, than we are equally hurled in the grave, and often the poor man's dust lies above the rich. When ye behold a heap of bones, who can say, here are the rich man's, there the poor's? Oh! if we could obtain so much liberty and leisure of our too too many restless and unprofitable thoughts, as to make this change a great part of our daily meditation! We need not Philip's monitor, nor a dead man's skull used by the Egyptians, to be our memento; each place, day, person will do it. And yet alas, though nothing be more seen, and better known, nothing is less thought upon: such a change as this, may possibly enforce us to reflect our thoughts upon ourselves, and our own approaching change; but ah! how short, how evanishing, how ineffectual are those thoughts! one moment often giving them both life and death? But I may not trespass too far upon your patience in pressing this argument. Let me with some brief collections resume my text and leave.  
Is our time but days? First, how may we not bewail the bygone, that so much of so short time should have been so evil employed? And secondly, why are we not careful to manage that which is remaining. Thirdly, you have tasted of all those fading pleasures, the world doth either promise, or can give; experience hath made you see their vanity, being but like yesternights dream. Why then should our few days be taken up any longer with that, which we know in the end will bring us nothing, but late repentance? Fourthly, our time is short, and yet upon this day, this hour, this moment of our life, depends an eternity either of pleasure or pain. What madness to purchase eternal pain for a moment's seeming pleasure? Fiftly, Methushalem his days were too few either to express our sorrow for sin, or thankfulness for God's mercies: How then should we not be circumspect so to govern those few days of our appointed time, that not one day, not one hour may pass, without doing that we never can do sufficiently?  
The days of our appointed time are uncertain? job saith, all the days, but he tells not how many; he professes, he will wait till his change come; but knew not, when it would come: And is not his case herein, ours also? Yes certainly. Who knows but this day may end his days; and your change may meet you ere you meet with your houses; how should this hasten our repentance? our amendment? We are always resolving and still unresolved; what projects, what purposes tending to reformation of our lives have vanished in the air? O when shall we begin to do that, the not doing whereof will make us undone? Your time is uncertain here; and what if this change of your bodies preveen the change of your souls? Oh beloved, delay not longer; How many are in hell who had those fleeting and flying motions of repentance and reformation, that some of you now have? but postponing them, this change interveened, and brought a doleful change upon them. Let not, I entreat you, a matter of such consequence, as the eternal salvation of your souls be casten off to future time which is so uncertain.  
Our change is certain and common. If with Abel we had no precedent examples thereof, our not waiting were in some sort tolerable; but now in this general condition of all mankind, whereby they are liable to this change, what can we pretend for our egregious slackness and remissness that will not thus change in our thoughts, before it seize on our bodies. Doth the earthworm take his change to heart? no: then he would not waste his body, mind, conscience, so excessively, for the heaping together the trash of this earth; since by this change he will be stripped of all? Doth the thought hereof bereave the aspiring spirit of its rest? no: then he would not so beat his brains, spend his wits, that he may raise himself though upon the ruin of his betters: since by this change he must once be trodden under foot, and have all his earthly glory laid in the dust. But I must end. I pray God this change may teach us, all the days of our appointed time to wait, till our change come. (* ⁎ *)  
FINIS.   

IN OBITUM NOBILISSIMAE Virgins JANAE METELLANAE, filiae Comitis Lauderi.  


QVarta Metellanam subtraxit olympias orbi,  
Spem procerum, patrii deliciasque soli.  
Ante Deae quàm Juno suos accenderet ignes,  
Barbara Lethaeis Atropos hausit aquis.  
Quid querar? urticis fas est sperare senectam,  
Lappa nec hybernas deperit ante nives;  
Sed violas, tenerasque rosas, & candida prati  
Lilia, vere vides surgere, vere mori.   

Aliud,  
CVitria debuerat largiri secla, puellam  
Parca Metellanam post tria lustra rapit.  
Virtutes numer at Lachesis, non supputat annos;  
Fructus erat praecox, carptus & ante diem.   Arturus Jonstonus.  


Coelestes animi dotes producere possent  
Si vitam, procul & mortis depellere tela;  
Omnes, Diva, tibi vidisses funere Nymphas  
Praereptas, maestae quae nunc tua funera deflent:  
Verùm aliter visum superis: properantia fata  
Coelestes rapiunt regnae ad coelestia mentes:  
Nec patitur Coeli clementia, prima lutosis  
Ornamenta poli terrarum haerere lacunis.   Joannes Adamsonus.  


PAlladium Vestaeflagrante ex aede Metellus  
Sustulit, è medjis eripuitque focis.  
Vesta memor facti, servatorìsque Minervae,  
Jure Metellanis semper amica fuit.  
Hanc ìgitur castam rapuit de gente Metelli,  
Aeternâ ut possit virginitate fruì.  
Et sibi quòd data sit fatis tutela Decembris,  
Mortalis vitae terminus ille fuit.   G. Jonstonus. M. D.  


Hâc voti mensura hominum componitur urnâ,  
Et desiderij meta supremajacet.  
Si generis series placet, haec millesima claros  
Censebat longo sanguine gentis avos:  
Si decor, & niveo delectat gratia vultu,  
Aemula certabant Cypridos ora Deae:  
Si dos ampla juvat, superabant munera matri  
Et patri, Attaticae quas numeraret opes,  
Dulcius argutas pulsabat Apolline chordas,  
Doctius & Phrygiâ Pallade pinxit acu.  
Dextera non aliter signavit arundine voces,  
Quàm quae chalchographis charta notata typis.  
Virtute aequales superavit, Cynthia quantum  
Exiguas, pleno cum nitet orbe, faces.  
Vnde licet matura viro, quia lege maritâ  
Nullus erat tantos dignus inire toros,  
Connubio Deus ipse sibi sociavit in aevum,  
Et fruitur sponso, nunc super astrae, Deo.   

Defuncta matrem consolatur.  
DEsine chara parens, mordaci pectora luctu  
Etgemitu manes sollicitare meos.  
Immaturatibi videor cecidisse juventâ,  
Alba velut primo flore ligustra cadunt:  
Sed cita mors citius patrio quia reddit Olympo,  
Mitte queri vitae de brevitate meae.  
Exilium breve, vita brevis, cûi longior aetas,  
Longius exilij taedia lenta tulit.   M. Andr. Ramsaeus.  


ECce Metellanae tumulum, quo condita virgo,  
Vix vicena cui bruma peracta, jacet,  
Si proavos spectes memorandaque stemmata, vixit  
Illa Metellanae stirpsque decusque domus;  
Simo dotes, superûm demissam sedibus, ipsis  
A superis artes addidicisse reor.  
Terpsichore docuit citharae percurrere nerves  
Pectine, & ad dulces verbareferre modos:  
Ardentes auro vestes ostroque superbo  
Ipsa dedit Phrygiâ pingere Pallas acu,  
Quin inter stellas ut Cynthia fulget, ut inter  
Nimpharum virides Deïopeia choros;  
Omnes huic decus eximium speciemque decoram  
Aequales supra contulit alma Venus.  
Certat at egregiae virtus dum vivida formae,  
Vlterius nec quo progrediatur habet.  
Huc propera, huc virgo propera, Deus inquit, ad astrae  
Inclyta te revocat sortis origo tuae.   Da. Wedderburnus  


REge Metellano (scriptorum ut consona vox est)  
Natus erat nostri fons & origo boni;  
Natus erat Christus, quo ductum stemmate nomen  
Cernimus in nostros invaluisse dies.  
Jamque cluit veteris flos, & nova gloria gentis,  
Testis ades patrii gemma, Ladere, soli;  
Testis Joanna es: tibi gratum ut gratia nomen,  
Remque dedit, tanto nomini & esse parem.  
Sique queam propriè communia dicere, sique  
In re tantâ animi promere sensa mei:  
Jure Metellanae pariter cognomine gaudes:  
Ritè quadrat donis vox ita facta tuis,  
〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 tenes: Deus est cognominis author;  
〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 animae tot dedit alma tuae.  
Virgoque virginibus jam regnas insita divis:  
Fallitur interitum mors meditata tuum.  
Vita tibi est Christus, cujus tot sancta supersunt  
Dogmata, Daedaliâ quae tibi picta manu.  
Sit tibi, sit certet quae stemmate, rarior aequâ  
Ornabit morum nobilitate genus.   M. Patricius Sandeus.  


RApta jacet primis hîc Metellana sub annis  
Flebilis, & maestis virgo cienda modis:  
Carpere quì tenerum Parcae potuistis amomum?  
Non puduit tantum conviolasse decus?  
Nectare virgineam Nymphae lachrimisque favillam  
Spargite; perpetuo floreat urna croc●,  
Vos cineri date justa pio, conferte corollas;  
Haec redeat vestris annua cura choris.   Patr. Panterus.  


FLete Metellanae cineres qui cernitis urnam,  
Flete puellares, funereasque faces.  
Herois soboles, & tanto digna parente,  
Cuique pari genitrix auxit honore genus:  
 generis clari, sic clarum exemplar honesti,  
Virgo in virgineo gloria prima choro;  
Dotibus ingenij dives, decoravit easdem  
Artibus ingenuis, excoluitque labor.  
Ast eadem quae lima animum terit, atterit annos,  
Cura coquit teneras & philomusa dies.  
Ante annos scivisse nocet, completaque virtus  
Fecerat, ut Clotho crederet esse senem.  
Prima sui secli, coeloque futura secunda,  
Virginis Erigones virgo recepta sinu.  
Virginis & laudes ductas meliore metallo,  
Publica perpetuo fama tenore sonat.   
Fama virtutum, tuba sempiterna.  

Aliud.  
MArmoreus nisi sit, quae marmore conditur iste,  
Lectori lachrimas lecta movere potest.  
Scilicet una, cui melos & myrothetion omne,  
Sais & Aonidum sacra caterva dedit:  
una bonis animi, fortunae, corporis aucta,  
Quae data sunt alijs singula, cuncta tulit.  
Altera, sed melior, meritó Pandora Deorum,  
Versibus Ascraeis altera digna novis.  
Vtque suo similem, genuit vix Roma Metello,  
Nostra Metellanae nec tulit ora parem.  
Eximiae eximio tot in uno corpore dotes,  
Secula Cumaeae promeruere senis.  
Sed brevis immodicis aetas, & rara senectus,  
Et citò saepe solent optima quaeque rapi.  
Hoc decus, aetatis decas altera vexit ad astra,  
Foelix quae coelo tam cito digna fuit.   

Ad defunctam.  
PRima puellarum quas prisca aut nostra tulerunt,  
Quasque Caledonijs secla futura dabunt;  
Parce, nec ista tibi veluti data justa putato,  
Sed tanquam moestas manibus inferias.  
Memoriae & amoris ergo  
Moerens moestusque parentavit   Galt. Bellendinus.  


QVae Venus huc taedas debebas ferre jugales,  
Funereas quid das, heu Libitina, faces?  
Vsque adeo Idaeae remanent vestigia rixae,  
Pallada nec causâ est hac cecidisse satis.  
Palladium medio rapuit si ex igne Metellus,  
Lumine non fuerat captus utroque pius.  
Illa Metellanam tanto post tempore neptem  
Invidia, & te nunc opprimis atra Venus.  
(Is decor oris erat, roseisque affusa labellis  
Gratia; non occulos unus obibat amor.)  
Sed doluit Cytheraea suas in corpore dotes  
Infra Cecropiae dona jacêre Deae.  
Quippe parem priscae nostram studuere tribuli  
Fingere Caeciliam nata soroque Jovis.  
Pronuba quod deerat, quaerebat Juno maritum  
Jungere quem merita est Tarquinioque parem.  
Invidit non casta Venus, quia Palladis artes  
Et genium edidicit; pro face faxque data est.  
Faxque Metellanae gratissima, quippe maritum  
Perpetua accepit sic ea virgo Deum.   

Aliud.  
FRustra qui Numidas, frustra qui regna Philippi  
Cognatus domuit, marmor eburque paret.  
Non Lybicum quaero tumulum, non saxa Laconum,  
Nec quae huc Dalmaticus flavametalla vehat.  
Vsque sequor Judae coelestem virgo leonem,  
Et me viventum circulus unus habet.   R. Magillus Juris et aequi studiosus,  


QVae cantu Euterpe, quae juncta sororibus ipsa  
Terpsichore, & plectro magnus Apollo potest:  
Aut quas faemineis animis impendere dotes  
Velure natura, vel ars ingeniosa solet;  
His majora habuit, cujus modo stamina vitae  
Abrupit Lachesis; tam cito rara cadunt!  
Heu pietas coelum petyt, pudicitia, forma,  
Nobilitas, virtus, Palladis ingenium.  
Sed veluti brumâ pereuntia, vere resurgunt;  
Sic ea perpetuo flore renata viget.   L. J. M.  


QVod coelum tenuit pulchri, quod terra bonique,  
Metlana in gremium transijt omne tuum.  
Quae poterat, major concesserat omnia mundus,  
Nec potuit mundus plura tenere minor.  
Religio veram te ostenderat Heroinam,  
Tradiderat virtus & diadema suum.  
Divinae varias decorasti Palladis arts,  
Et musae gazas jure dedere suas.  
Stemma vetus, comitas, castique modestia vultus,  
Cogebant hominum lumina, corda sequi.  
Sed mors humanas non curas ferrea curas;  
Nil coeli aut terrae dona stupenda movent.  
At quantùm nostros contemnis, saeva dolores,  
Tantùm Nympha minas negligit ista tuas.  
Avolat in patriam (te spretâ) nobilis aulam;  
Dilacerat nobis tristia corda abitus.  
How nimium mors te fecerunt fata potentem,  
Quid! pessum tantae virginis ora dari?  
Colla jugo juvenis, dat colla & eburnea virgo,  
Ergo te contra nullus asylus erit.  
Evasere ungues, Pietas, virtusque rapaces,  
Quaeque bonas animas gloria tuta manet.  
Laeta dies veniet, quâ tu moriere vicissim,  
Tum genus in nostrum vana tyrannis erit.  
Sed quid ego laudes aut vota effundere coner?  
Te Deus auricomus carmina digna canat.  
Sat misero vatijustum narrasse dolorem,  
Flebile sat miseno sit cecinisse melos.  
Plura vetat vulnus, moerentique obstruit ora,  
Garrit cura levis, cura cruenta stupet.   

Aliud.  
WHat goodness, beauty, heaven and earth embowred  
(Sweet Lady) upon Thee it all was poured  
All which it could, the greater world thee gave,  
And more no little world did  receive,  
Thee above all, religion did adorn,  
And virtue's crown was duly by thee born;  
Divine Minerva's arts by thee were graced;  
The Muses in their throne thee justly placed.  
Birth, courtesy, sweet modesty and grace  
Of eyes and hearts made thee the resting place.  
But iron death contemning all our pleasures,  
Of heaven and earth regarded not the treasures:  
Yet if thou little didst our groans respect,  
(Grim ghost) this Nymph too did thy threats neglect:  
To heaven her longed-for soil (thoughtlesse of thee)  
She flees, and leaves us in sad misery.  
Alas? the Fates to thee have given huge might;  
That such a virgin lies bereft of light.  
Maid's iv'rie necks, and young men's all do yield  
Unto thy yoke, against thee serves no shield.  
Yet, virtue, glory, (though thou all devour)  
And piety are not thralled to thy power.  
That day hastes on, when of thy tyranny  
O'er man, the binding cords shall broken be:  
Till then, you fragrant noble flowers attend  
This monument, and here your powers extend.  
And gems (heavens tears) bewailing stars, distil  
Both day and night upon these ashes still.  
I will not touch thy praises (noble dame)  
The prince of poets should proclaim the same:  
My just and bleeding grief I only show,  
And some faint elegy thereon bestow.  
Soreness of wound binds up a willing vain,  
Brooks shallow murmur, deep floods noise disdain.   Sr D. L.  


THe flower of virgins in her prime of years,  
By ruthless destinies is ta'en away,  
And raped from earth, poor earth, before this day  
Which ne'er was rightly named a vale of tears,   

Beauty to heaven is fled, sweet modesty  
No more appears; she whose harmonious sounds  
Did ravish sense, and charm minds deepest wounds,  
Embalmed with many a tear now low doth lie.   

Fair hopes evanished are; she should have graced  
A prince's marriage bed; but (lo!) in heaven  
Blessed paramours to her were to be given!  
She lived an angel, now is with them placed.   

Virtue was but a name abstractly trimmed,  
Interpreting what she was in effect,  
A shadow from her frame, which did reflect,  
A portrait by her excellencies limned.   

Thou whom freewill or chance hath hither brought,  
And readst; here lies a branch of Metlands stem,  
And Seatons' offspring; know that either name  
Designs all worth, yet reached by humane thought.  
Tombs (elsewhere) rise, life to their guests to give;  
Those ashes can frail monuments make live.   M. W. Drumond.  


Lo here within this coffin sad doth lie  
Religion, virtue, true nobility.  
Ah that a silent urn should thus enshrine  
What once not mortal seemed, but all divine.  
More beauty Sparta never did contain,  
Nor Paphos, famous for her lovely Queen,  
A beauty chaste, and chaste, not to annoy,  
As was the homicide of Cadmus' oye:  
But bashful beauty, harmless chastity  
Such as decored that sometime nymph, now tree;  
hay me my muse your sister's death bemoan,  
And weep that sweet Calliope is gone:  
Those sounds harmonious strains which to admire,  
Amazed Orpheus did his lute forbear,  
Shut up in silence, shall be heard no more,  
Which every tripping Dryad shall deplore.  
But most of all that spirit sublimely wise  
Like hers, who from the brain of Jove did rise,  
Shined as that orient lamp, which scarce when born  
Is swallowed in the huge beams of the morn.  
Had this sweet nymph lived in that age of gold,  
She 'mongst the Deities had been enrolled:  
Or lived Naso now to see her hearse,  
She, not Astraea had adorned his verse.  
But what? can heavenly creatures be enjaylde?  
Or from their native country long exiled?  
No: All things to their proper centre celeave;  
Nor can immortals from immortals live.  
Her name the fates to fame's report hath given,  
Her body to the earth, her soul to heaven.   W. Douglas.  


LEt virtuous virgins all with tears behold  
The fairest cabin stored with choicest gems  
That grace or nature ever did unfold  
To humane knowledge under diadems:  
Of faultless body (here) and guiltless mind  
The femail sex perfection confined.  
In blood she might have claimed unto the best,  
In honour too of none she did come short,  
In dowry equal with those nobly blessed,  
For personage of a most lowly port:  
Such blessings blooming makes most ladies proud,  
But fully ripe with her, she still was good.  
These forced but fair prerogatives of birth  
By inward virtue were most highly graced,  
Stayed gravity mixed with modest mirth,  
Humility in stately palace placed  
Her chastity not stained with any thought,  
Of heavenly substance proved her to be wrought.  
No industry which curious hands afford  
Did hers surpass, all sciences, all arts  
Her sex beseeming, richly her decord,  
She rather them by full adorning parts:  
Yet her alas ere lustres four were told,  
A winding sheet for hymen's robes enrolled.  
Her fear of God respect to parents show,  
Who never yet could challenge the offence  
She gave, nor did desire of youth pursue  
Beside their pleasure, reavisd thus from hence  
To the third heaven, she parting with a smile  
Told man's abode on earth was but exile.   

LUte, viol, organ, sautral, pandal be,  
Silent, as when in forest wild ye grew,  
Since cruel death, but pity overthrew  
Her, whose dear hands made sweet your harmony.  
And if ye sound bewailing to all ears  
That strokes may sighs, and sounds bring forth salt tears.  
A snow-like white pure innocence betrays,  
On it black tears, for virgin's grief, betrays:  
This at her funeral was clearly found,  
Where all eyes objects black was but the ground:   

Nature's rich gem, by art most orient bright,  
Of both the honour, parents sole content.  
Ladies, yea, sex's glory, virgin's light,  
Her times delight, than them more excellent,  
Endued with all those gifts which ever ' wight  
Obtained on earth: death in the prime hath rend.  
This lesser worlds fall (virtues universe)  
Turns hearts, eyes, Verse, sad mourners o'er her hearse.   

MEn, matrons, maids, come mourn to see  
This matchless match, so soon to dye.  
Ours is the loss, hers is the gain,  
When leaving life, she leaves all pain;  
And doth enjoy these endless joys  
For worldly transitory toys.  
The change is good, great is the gain,  
When she with Christ doth now remain.  
He now her head, and husband is,  
She in her life desired but this:  
And to none other was betrothed,  
Beloved of all, of none was loathed.  
Her wit, her virtues won her this,  
Which may be told when she's in bliss:  
Yet being dead, she lives by fame,  
Her worth doth grace her noble esteem.  
But none can fly death's cruel hand,  
No, not this Phoenix of our Land.   Maerens posuit M. R. M.  


QVid natura potis, quantumve licere venustas,  
Cuncta, METELLANAM dum facit, exhibuit  
Quid genius genio, quid praestet virgine virgo,  
Ista Metellanae praebuit ingenium.  
Cunctorum frustra hac sperata opulentia votis,  
Illibata poli gaudet honore frui.   M. R. Gord.  

Laetandum non lugendum parentibus defunctae.  

ONimium dilecta Deo, quam flore juventae  
Ante diem extinctam, deflet uterque parens!  
Spes sibi praerept as, & inania vota queruntur,  
Plurima quae nimius corde coquebat amor;  
Invida quòd nigro clauserunt fata sepulchro  
Excultum ingenium, nobile stemma, decus.  
Expectes thalami, rarasque in virgine dotes,  
Dulciloquam linguam, suavisonos digitos;  
Ingemat his vulgus, vos exultate receptam  
Coelestem in patriam, sydereasque domos.  
Cernite palmigeram victricem, atque inter ovantem  
Coelicolum niveis agmina amicta stolis;  
Sponsam agni, & comites laetum paeana canentes,  
Cingentes Domini nocte dieque thronum.  
Invidia haec, non est pietas deflere beatam,  
Cui datur aethaereo clara corona polo.   Gu. Gordonus. M.D.  


MIlle fuere proci Metlanae, mille neglectis  
Maluit in casto sola jacere thoro;  
Expers connubii sine conjuge ducere vitam,  
Vincta maritali quàm dare colla jugo.  
Innuba Virgo solo, te junxit pronuba coelo  
Mors Christo, haec thalamis fax magè digna tuis.   Joh. Gordon.  


PArva procelloso casa cùm quassatur ab austro  
Corruit, at levis est, levis illa ruina minuti  
Cespitis, & junci levis est jactura palustris:  
Splendida marmoreis sed si suffulta columnis  
Regia corruerit, quam sumtu prodigus amplo  
Dives agri dominus, nummorum & foenore dives  
Rite instaurandam fecit, quam docta periti  
Condidit artificis manus & mens daedala, magnâ  
Non sine strage ruent molis radiantia tantae  
Maenia; fornicibus pulchra, & pendentia ruptis  
Culmina; deliciis laquearea tota superbis  
Fulgida; & immensae splendor nitidissimus aulae.  
Haud aliter si fata rudem de plebe puellam  
Interiisse sinent, cui nec solertis acumen  
Ingenii, doctae nec blandimenta loquelae,  
Dextra nec in dulcem citharae sat nobilis usu●,  
Nec calamo varias verborum ducere formas;  
Cui nihil incultae superest, nisi rustica mentis  
Barbaries, raucique ruens ex ore boatus  
Gutturis indocto; perit hem perit obsita probris,  
Et lachrimis indigna piis, indigna piorum  
Fletibus & celebri nunquam dignanda sepulchro.  
Si tamen augustae mors forsitan ora puellae  
Solverit in cineres, formam & spoliaverit omnem  
Virginis intactae, Lyricam cui Cynthius artem,  
Et Jovis ex cerebro Dea mentem indulsit acutam,  
Cui linguam Maiâ genitus; proh tota piorum  
Ingeminans gemitus rumpetur turba querelis.  
Ergo tuae (pia Nympha) animae dum claudere cippis  
Nitimur exuvias gelido, rictuque furenti  
Terra tui dulcem nimium dum corporis offam  
Rodit, inoptatam merito lugemus ad urnam.  
Postulat hoc pietas, quis enim tua funera praeceps  
Non ruet in lachrimas dum viderit? ipsa dolendo  
Pallida fit Pallas, Musarum moesta corona  
Tristo gemit; tristem matri tua fata minantur  
Interitum, mortemque patri tua fata minantur:  
Et fratres tua fata tuos, (bona germina casti  
Bina thori) & Sophiam perimunt tua fata sororem.  
Nobilis heu fulcro domus haec tremebunda remoto  
Tota quatit. Tanti fuerat tua vita; parentum  
Gaudia tu, tu dextra manus, tu dexter ocellus.  
O quam te memorem virgo? tibi multa supellex  
Divitis ingenii, mentis tibi multa pudicae  
Signa fuere; habili resonantia pollice fila  
Sollicitare Lyrae poteras, & mollibus auris  
Chordarum illiciens animos mulcere: tuâque  
Vermiculata manu thalamorum vela supersunt,  
(Bezaleelis opus docti). quid singula narrem?  
Mens pia, docta manus, facies formosa, pudicum  
Pectus, in exiguo sunt contumulanda sepulchro.    

For the Mother's moderation in tears.  

WIth grief-torn sprite the world's redeemer wept,  
When Lazarus his loved kinsman slept  
In deaths black bosom, though he could restore  
Him to the life he had enjoyed before.  
Why is it then? I wonder greatly why,  
The world to thee (dear Lady) should deny  
Abounding tears, great grief, sad sobbing, since  
Pale death hath pulled thy darling daughter hence  
More than a thousand kinsmen; whom from death  
No earthly power can repossess with breath.  
Mourn then (sweet Lady) mourn: but which is chief,  
Learn, learn of Christ to moderate your grief.   Alexander Hamilton,  


Adieu my Dear, since highest heavens decree,  
That I, the harvest of my hopes in thee,  
Should not enjoy: Death uncontrolled gives  
Me endless sorrow, and the World just grieves  
For thy untimely death. In thy young years  
Had thou been reft, my mourning, grief and tears,  
Youth might assuaged: But when time made thee grow  
To height, what earth could wish, or heavens bestow,  
In whom was closed, wit, worth and virtue's treasure,  
This makes my grief in mourning pass all measure.  
Grave by thy age, but wise above thy years,  
This makes my sobbing sighs burst forth in tears,  
In having the earth's happiness I knew;  
But oh! heaven's soon that happiness withdrew!  
And cold December which first gave thee breath,  
After twice ten years turned, reports thy death.  
Strange turn of time, the last month of the year  
Should rob me of my firstborn dearest Dear:  
Whose qualities were rare, so were they many,  
And good: none equalled thee, thou passed any.  
For all that's rare, they are but rare in one;  
But thou wast rare in every thing alone.   

Envy and fame are needless to the dead,  
Because unknown to them: yet let us plead  
What's ours, even mourning for her sacred change;  
Whose fame in spite of envy lives, though strange  
Divorce black death hath made: Her noble parts  
Craves tears from eyes, and sorrow from sad hearts.  
Who as she lived beloved, now dies with moan,  
Of kin, of country: nor of these alone,  
But all who worth, or virtue did adore.  
None saw her like succeed, few passed before.  
Thy worth so great, our sorrow must be such,  
Mourn as we can, we cannot mourn too much.   

Aliud.  
RAra fides, virtus, prudentia, & entheus ardour,  
Si poterint poterant te moriente mori.  
Indulsit cuiquam nunquam natura, quod in te  
Non rarum & majus laude vel invidia:  
Hoc, citius proerepta licet tua funere flere,  
 resonet famam vix satis orbis erit.   

Aliud.  
With sanctified ¹, unspotted ², true ³, This one  
Wit ¹, worth ² and virtue ³, To the grave is gone.  
Moeroris & amoris ergo posuit   M.I. Cockburnus.  


FOrma, genus, virtus miranda in flore juventae,  
Laudem virginei te statuere chori;  
Metellana domus generosâ prole beanda  
Per te, sic matrum gloria prima fores.  
Sed demissa polo pietas in fruge senectam  
Maturans, comitem te super astra rapit.  
Marmora mitte igitur, fuge laudes dicere versu,  
Huic immortali ne moritura struas.   M. Ro. Balcanquel.  


PVlchra Metellana est primâ proerepta juventâ,  
Et secli & sexus gloria prima sui.  
Quae teneros opibus mentis praeverterat annos,  
Sincerâ ornârat quae pietate genus.  
Tota decens, morum candore, modestia, & alti  
Artibus ingenii, laude pudicitiae.  
Hanc tantùm terris fata ostendére, quod esset  
Non hoc digna loco, sed meliore frui.  
Nempe sibi propriam sociavit foedere Nympham  
Christus, ut aeternâ luce beata cluat.   Alex. Setonius.  


SI probitas, si forma, & magna modestia, & ingens  
Spes hominum quicquam conciliare valent,  
Cuncta mihi, thalami nec opes, nec caetera longe,  
Vult generum mater, vult pater esse socer;  
Sed mea mortalem sors dedignata maritum,  
Asseruit coelo virgineoque choro.  
Quid nunc forma, genus, quid inania caetera vitae?  
In sponso & Domino cuncta reperta meo.   M. I. D.  


ERgone in illustrem potuisti squalida gentem  
Met'lanam hoc mandare nefas? anne invida tanti  
Nominis, hunc tantum potuisti inferre dolorem?  
Ausa nimis funesta. Tuos si flectere sensus  
Non potuit generis praeclari gloria, saltem  
Plurima tam sacra suadebant parcere Nymphae.  
Illa quidem taedas velut aversata jugales,  
Qualiter apricis ducebat Delia campis  
Virginibus comitata suis, sic lata sorores  
Inter honoratas duxit Metlana choraeas:  
Illa vel aequales quas sors dedit esse, vel inter  
Illa deas luxit, quas sors dedit esse priores:  
Casta, pudica, decens, artes quàm daedala Pallas  
Edocuit, teneram tenerisque refovit in ulnis:  
Namque animum fingit studiis nec inanibus aptum;  
Et quae foemineum decorant illustria sexum.  
Alma Venus Nymphae nec defuit: illa decorum  
Contribuit, placidumque simul super omnia vultum,  
Et pinxit roseos artus, corpusque decenti  
Ordine composuit, quo singula quaeque referrent  
Et genus, & tantae sublimia munera mentis.  
Cuncta annos aevumque simul suasere; sed eheu  
Sola Metellanae renuisti parcere nymphae.   

Epicedium.  
NYmpha Metellanas inter celeberrima, tantae  
Quae fueras nuper lucida gemma domus;  
Nympha inter cunctas celeberrima, blanda, venusta  
Et quae virginei gloria prima chori;  
Vive, vale, decus omne tuis, dulcissima rerum,  
Junctaque divinis nune fruere usque choris.   

Epitaphium.  
STemmate praelustris, virtute illustrior; unum  
Id mihi prae cunctis nomen honoris erat;  
Vixi chara aliis, & chara parentibus, uni  
Quod fueram Christo chara, beatafui.   Patricius Kinalochus.  


STay passenger, O go not by  
Till thou behold who here dothly,  
And help with me to shed some tears  
For her; who living had few peers.  
A comely Lady truly chaste,  
Who in her birth was with the best.  
Minerva's stock was her descent,  
Which made to virtue her so bend;  
As testifies what's to be seen,  
And might be presents to a Queen.  
In bounty matchless, and so rare,  
As few with her now may compare;  
But in her life so sanctified,  
As in her death she edified.  
Well, to be short she nothing wanted,  
Which to the noblest Nymphs was granted.   M.T. M.  


TE matri similem formá, pietate parenti  
Proh dolor! ant diem mors inopina rapit.  
Te Deus omnipotens, primis tibi charus ab annis  
Artibus ornavit, quas didicisse juvat.  
Occidis heu prima prudens in flore juvente,  
Atque avi finis ipsa pudicitia est.  
Nobilis à proavis, & origine clara parentum  
Clara Metellana es; moribus usque bonis.   Moeroris ergo posuit Patricius Metellanus.  


WHen thy fair beauty like the blushing morn,  
Which Ida's Goddesses did all adorn,  
Shined on earth's stage, and bore the golden ball,  
Of which for excellence thou reft them all.  
All that had hearts to wish, or eyes to see,  
Became admirers of thy worth. But thee  
No eye nor heart had worth enough t' aspire  
To make his own, till heaven was set on fire  
With its own Masterpiece; and took thee home  
In thy pure virgin white, as here thou come,  
And left us now (alas) with weeping eyes,  
To praise thy worth, which best thy want can price.  
For why? we truly know it in thy lack,  
Since all Earth's treasure cannot buy thee back.  
Ah me! when nature thus had played her best,  
Or would, or could she not still make thee last?  
Pencils and pens may thy worth's portrait draw,  
Which to presume, the best should stand in awe.  
But heaven, that holds thee now a virgin Queen,  
Among the sainted souls a leader seen,  
Vouchsafes no further good to after days  
By want of thee: But if that aught worth praise  
Nature produces, henceforth it shall be  
Most chief praised, for being like to thee.  
But thy rich mould hath taken such a blow,  
That now it cannot such another show.  
Yet in despite of nature, death and time,  
That thus hath reft thee from us in thy prime,  
Like the Arabian Bird, thine ash shall give  
A rare invention how to make thee live.  
Since all that saw, or heard, or knew of thee,  
Shall think their best, like thee to live and dye.  
So though thy earthly part death hath subdued,  
All age shall see thy virtuous fame renewed.   JAMES DRUMMOND of Millanab.  


HAEc Laderdeli generosa nata  
 Metellano Patre, sic Setona  
Matre, praeclaris oriunda; solo haud  
Sanguine avito,   

Sed magis verâ pietate eâdem  
Jure cantari meruit Camaenis;  
Mens ut in coelis, it a fama terris  
Vivat in aevum.   

Nobiles ut sic alios parentes,  
Nobiles ut sic pariterque natos  
Provocet, non tam Baphicove cocco aut  
Murice tinctis   

Vestibus corpus decorare visu,  
Nuper en vivax breve sed futurum  
Hospitam foedis simul & cibandis  
Vermibus escam.   

Sed mage aulaeis animam decoris,  
Mentis integrae celebrare Jovae  
Regiam in terris simul, incolamque  
Postea coeli.   

Aliud.  
FAma refert, Chymicos tx deteriore metallo  
Fingere posse auri ceu simulachra boni.  
Nulla Metellanae suberat deceptio menti,  
Hanc nec fucatâ finxerat arte Deus.  
Et licet apparet verum, id (si credere fas est)  
In sua post rursum prima elementa redit.  
Ast huic aterni penitis insculpta figuris  
Vivida imago Dei jam super astra cluit.   DAVID LICHAEUS Mysta Ecclesiae Rerisensis.  


Defunctae prosopopaeia.  
QVis neget Ascraeis dignam te nympha Camaenis  
Quae genus a priscis nobile ducis avis?  
Nempe Metellaná & clarâ de stirpe Setonâ  
Nobile stemma dedit divus uterque parens.  
Nec virtute genus caruit, reverentia vultum  
Finxit, & eximio fulsit in ore decor.  
Ingenii mirum tribuit tibi Pallas acumen;  
Et dedit ad numerum tangere Apollo lyram.  
 pulsare manu, bis quinis nablia nervis,  
Sic docta es, pavidas voce movere feras.  
Te tua nobilitas, pietas, prudentia, forma  
Fecerunt regi poenè fuisse parem.  
Dotibus his animi raris, & corporis aucta,  
Praeriperis fatis invidiosa feris.   

Alia defunctae prosopopeia.  
BIs duo lustra meae fuerant modo tempora vitae,  
Nobis vita brevis, sed bene culta fuit.  
Inspice & invenies nostri pia signa laboris,  
Relligionis opus scrinia parva tenent.  
Quàm bene me à cunis clari eduxere parentes  
Vita fuit testis, mor s mea sancta probat.  
Discite nobilium natae bene vivere quid sit;  
Mors comes est vitam sancta secuta piam.   

Alia prosopopeia.  
VIrgo venusta decens, animi generosa, propago  
Lauderi comitis nobilis, hic sita sum.  
Non prius, ah! teneris, caepi juvenescere ab annis;  
Quam me praecipitem mors rapit ante diem.  
Pollicita ante obitum Patri dare grata nepotem,  
Et genero nostram nobilitare domum:  
Praescia propositi, vetuit Libitina futuri,  
Obstitit & taedis Juno maligna meis.  
Aspernata deas, sum dedignata maritum  
Mortalem, Christum diligo laeta virum.   G. E.  


SInt aliis sua forma decens, & divitis auri  
Copia virginibus, stirpsque vetusta domus,  
Oruatam cunctis quis te Metlana negabit  
Esse parem divis, virgineumque decus?  
Divinae stodio Sophiae mens dedita, curas  
Spreverat humanas, ardua summa peteus:  
Hoc tua testantur divini oracula verbi,  
Sacraque daedaleâ charta notata manu.  
Ergo tuas laudes in secla sequentia didit,  
Teque vetat pietas post tua fata mori.   M. Ro. Smithus.  


EHeu quo moritura? non moraris?  
Non quae nobilitas sapit capessis?  
Hen quorsum didicere tam peritè  
Splendentes digiti Jubalis artes?  
Heu quorsum super as manus Britannas  
Scribendo? monumenta quid supersunt  
Virtutis, tacite parem abnegantis?  
Heu quo Scotigenum jubar sororum  
Migras? sic coryphaea virgo squales?  
Transisque in tenuem volans favillam.  
Paulum ah siste, tuis morare paulum,  
Qui vitam si ne te trahunt misellam.  
Ah non sistis! abis! obis! relinquis  
Sic nos, sic fere mortuos parentes!  
Sed quid? terra minus reperta digna est  
Summi quae sobolem hostiam paratam  
Vivam detineat, Deo sacratam;  
A cujus pietate, spe, fideque  
Mortali ut thalamo carens jugali  
Aeternis thalamis Dei fruaris.   David Neishaeus.  


HEr Nature best; her most complete  
Had virtue made, and youth most sweet:  
More years could not make her more wise,  
Who here below this marble lies.   

VIva fuit; post fata, mihi (quid plura?) manebit  
Praecipua in terris virgo, secunda polo.   

NOw we not mourn, no, but congratulate  
(O happy virgin) thy thrice happy state,  
Thou rests in peace, and we in hope to see  
That day of Christ and thy felicity:  
Whose sacred soul, whilst body once did cloth  
The world amazed, and gazed on gifts of both  
With great delight: because in all thou didst,  
The secrets of the golden age thou hidest.  
Yea, blossoms sprang so fair and graces all,  
Which deaths untimely frost hath now made fall,  
But if re'niting breath or heat remains  
In swift-winged fame, or in the Muse's veins;  
Thy blossoms shall return, and comely spread,  
Though not so fair as first, yet ne'er to fade.   Thomas Maitland.  

Moestissima Mater.  

THy rest should me of rest deprive;  
Thy joys make joyless mother live;  
Did I not rest in hope to stand  
In joy with thee at Christ's right hand.    


BEhold a noble Virgin here enshrined,  
Within the bosom of this sacred earth!  
Whose beauty in the bloom, for her designed  
Approaching Hymen, not encroaching death:  
Yet glorious Nymph, what better change can be?  
heavens have prepared a bridal feast for thee.   M. G. Prymrose.  


FOrma deam fecit Cypriam, coeloque locavit,  
Laude pudicitiae facta Diana dea est:  
Juno Jovis consors, morum gravitate celebris;  
Pallas ab ingenio nobile nomen habet.  
Si meruere suis coelum virtutibus illae,  
Nonne Metellana est nomine digna deae?  
Quam genus & genius decoravit & inclyta forma,  
Promeruitque suâ quae pietate polum.  
Nostra suas igitur conferre prioribus audent  
Secula, concedant jamque priora novis.   

QVae super egressa est sexus mentemque, modumque,  
Heu Metlana perit, si periisse potest.  
In sua qui sperant redituras corpora mentes,  
Metlanam nor ánt non potuisse mori;  
Sed novus exuviis ophis ut revirescit ademptis,  
Sic manet hanc posito corpore vita nova.   

NAturae in pulchrâ vis ingeniosa puellâ  
Cernitur, artificis grande refulget opus.  
Si mentem imbutam quis religione requirit,  
Hanc verâ excultam si pietate notet,  
Non aliam, hunc animum, formam decuisse videbit,  
Nec formae huic alium competiisse animum.  
Vtque prius sancto capiebat pectore coelum,  
Nunc capitur coelo, perfruiturque Deo.   

CRescere quis sacras potuit sperare Sorores,  
Aut aliquid majus post Helycona dari?  
Instituisse novem fert ur Boeotia Musas,  
Reddidit at numerum Scotia nostra parem.  
Jamque Metellana haec decima est soror addita Musis,  
Aut si spectetur gratia, quarta Charis.  
O longùm, foelixque vale, aequiparanda deabus,  
Aeternúmque volet fama per ora virum.   

Stanza.  
THis hopeful maid, made of the Maitland mould,  
Where Nature ' Art their industry did show;  
Timely resolved her graces to uphold,  
With care to write the works of sacred troth,  
And as her years, so did her virtues grow.  
Envious fates untimely cropped them both.  
Then let this serve to make complete her praise.  
Whom God doth love, they die in tender days.  
〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉.   

QUi modo tot lacrimas, vario tot carmine fletus,  
Ante Metellanae jure dedere rogum,  
Officium fecere, & non fecere poetae;  
Musa suum siquidem misit, omisit opus.  
Tanta Metellanae moles erat elogiorum,  
Cui nec Apollineus par chorus omnis erat.  
Quàmque loquendo, satis dignè laudaverit un quam  
Nemo equidem, nisi qui sic stupet atque silet.   G. Bellendinus.  
FINIS.